


This is Why You Knock

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chubby Mycroft Holmes, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Inspired by Art, Kissing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-09 06:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12881769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Mycroft is surprised and pleased that Greg Lestrade wants him this way. Of course he can do without the nosy little brother.





	This is Why You Knock

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this](http://merindab.tumblr.com/post/168083068784/scarves-and-jumpers-scarves-and-jumpers) art by geniusbees

Mycroft moaned softly as Greg kissed him. The whole situation was rather unexpected. That Greg Lestrade, popular, punk and devilishly handsome would want to spend time with him, Mycroft Holmes, chubby, cold and ginger. But Greg had been almost single-minded in his pursuit and at last Mycroft’s defenses had crumbled and now Greg was _kissing_ him and Mycroft had never been so turned on and overwhelmed in his life.

“Not here,” whispered Mycroft, breaking away from the kiss, panting. They were in the family library and it would be all too easy for anyone to walk in. Particularly a certain overly curious sibling, though he wouldn’t exactly want Mum to walk in on this either.

Greg smiled at him (Oh God, that smile went straight to his cock, always had) and offered him a hand up. Mycroft accepted it, feeling the warmth of it. Greg leaned into his ear. “Where is your room?”

Mycroft’s knees almost buckled because he knew _exactly_ what would happen and it was everything he wanted. Part of him still feared that he was just a conquest to Greg, but at this point he no longer cared. He wanted Greg to take whatever he wanted. Wanted to get on his knees and worship him.

It had all started in Maths class, two months ago. Of course Mycroft knew who Greg was, it was impossible not to, just as he had no doubt Greg knew exactly who he was. He’d noticed Greg looking at him a few times, but he’d ignored him until Greg had walked over and asked for help with some of his homework.

Mycroft had thought it was just tutoring, but it very quickly became something else. Greg asked about him, and more than that, he listened. Mycroft found him easy to talk to and opened to him in a way he never did. Greg even got most of the bullies to back off after he got in a fistfight with one of them and won.

No one had ever got in a fight for him before.

“You’re ridiculous,” Mycroft had said, dabbing at a cut on his cheek.

“You’re worth it,” said Greg, pulling him down into their first kiss.

And now Mycroft was holding Greg’s hand and leading him quietly up the stairs and down the hall towards his bedroom, heart thrumming in his ears. He opened his door and tugged Greg towards his large bed, kicking the door closed on the way. Mycroft landed on his back, Greg moving over him and kissing him again.

“God, you’re beautiful,” breathed Greg, kneeling back so he could undo the buttons of Mycroft’s shirt. “Wanna see those freckles.”

Mycroft blushed under the attention. “They’re not that interesting,” he muttered. 

Greg stopped about halfway down Mycroft’s shirt and knelt back. “Mycroft, you-”

They were interrupted by the creak of his door and they both whipped their heads towards the sound.

Sherlock stood in the doorway, taking in the tableau before him. “Get out,” hissed Mycroft.

Making a disgusted noise, Sherlock hesitated in the doorway, calculating. “I could tell Mummy,” he said, clearly pondering.

“You’ll do no such thing,” said Mycroft, attempting to hold his shirt closed and failing.

“Why not, Fatcroft?”

Mycroft started to say something but Greg moved off the bed, going to the boy and crouching down to eye level. “Sherlock, yeah?”

He looked at Greg warily and nodded.

“Listen, I really like your brother. _Like_ , like you know?”

Sherlock wrinkled his nose at him. “So?”

“So I bet you don’t want him hanging around the house all the time and bothering you and trying to see what you’re up to, do you?”

Sherlocked nodded, glancing over Greg’s shoulder.

“Well you have two choices here. You could leave and pretend you didn’t see anything and I take Mycroft out to dinner and movies more often, giving you more time alone, or you tell your Mummy, they ban me from the house or seeing him, and Mycroft spends even more time at home.”

Sherlock looked at him a moment, then backed away. “I won’t tell,” he grumbled.

“Thank you,” said Greg as Sherlock closed the door again.

With a sigh, Greg stood and ran a hand through his spiked hair, looking back at Mycroft with a crooked smile. “So, where were we?”

“You handled that quite well,” said Mycroft going back to unbuttoning his shirt as Greg moved towards the bed.

“Three younger siblings, an older one, and a handful of cousins, I had to learn.” Greg leaned down and kissed him, running his hands over Mycroft’s exposed skin. 

Mycroft shivered under the attention. “I know I’m not…”

“You’re beautiful,” repeated Greg firmly, climbing back into bed. He leaned down and kissed a freckle on Mycroft’s chest. “I love your freckles. I love your hair. I love your body… God, Mycroft I’ve had dreams about your body.” He ran his hands over Mycroft’s ample stomach.

“Then you must be mad,” said Mycroft, running a hand through Greg’s hair. “You could have anyone you wanted.”

“I want you, Mycroft.” Greg planted more kisses on his chest, moving slowly down across his stomach. “You’re brilliant, you’re beautiful… you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I’d be mad _not_ to want you.”

Mycroft blinked back a few surprised tears. “Gregory…”

Greg leaned up and kissed him again, more tenderly this time than the white heat from before. Mycroft moaned and ran his hands down Greg’s sides, wanting to touch, wanting to believe.

Kneeling back again, Greg smiled at him. “Will you let me show you?”

Mycroft nodded. “Please,” he said softly.

Greg pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it aside. “Only as far as you want to go,” he said softly, laying down next to Mycroft and stroking his chest.

“I’d follow you to the moon,” said Mycroft cupping Greg’s cheek to kiss him again, sliding his tongue into his willing mouth.

Greg moaned softly and he heard Greg open his own belt. Looking down, he watched Greg free his cock. It was bigger than his own, and of course he didn’t carry so much weight in his stomach. 

“Touch me?” asked Greg.

Mycroft’s hand slid down and wrapped around his cock. Greg tucked his head against Mycroft’s shoulder, thrusting lightly into his grip. “Yeah, Mycroft. God.” He was panting against Mycroft’s skin and it gave Mycroft a thrill to know that he was doing this to him, that Greg Lestrade was downright putty in his hands.

“You’re beautiful too, you know,” he muttered, kissing the top of Greg’s head.

“Thanks. Can… can I touch you?”

Mycroft nodded. “Yes, please.”

Greg’s hands trembled as he loosened Mycroft’s belt. Mycroft’s breath caught as Greg freed him and wrapped his hand around him.

“Gregory,” he whispered, his hand stilling as he rocked into Greg’s grip.

“Here, like this,” said Greg, moving impossibly closer until he could take them both in hand. Sparks shot down Mycroft’s spine at the contact and his lips sought out Greg’s. 

They shared sloppy kisses as Greg stroked them both. Mycroft put his hand around Greg’s and they both groaned.

“Gonna come,” Greg warned him a moment before he did. The feel of Greg’s release was enough to push Mycroft over and he panted into Greg’s shoulder as Greg worked them both through before they rolled onto their backs and contemplated the ceiling.

“Wow,” said Greg, breaking the silence a moment later and turning his head to look at Mycroft. 

Mycroft smiled at him in return and leaned over for one more kiss. “Good thing I have my own en suite. How does a shower sound?”

Greg grinned at him. “Like an excellent idea.”

Rolling to his feet, Greg kicked off the last of his clothes and helped Mycroft with his. Giggling and sticky they all but stumbled into the en suite. Mycroft knew now that Greg was here to stay and he couldn’t imagine anything better than a future together with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Much thanks to humshappily for the readover, and theartstudentyouhat, lmirandas and egmon73 for the support
> 
> You can find me on tumblr and twitter at merindab


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